


The Voices

by StarOfTheCountyDown



Series: The Voices [1]
Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27844156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarOfTheCountyDown/pseuds/StarOfTheCountyDown
Summary: Strange sequel to Repo! The Genetic Opera.
Series: The Voices [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038183





	1. The Birth of Fortunato

Chapter One: The Birth of Fortunato 

(For this chapter, listen to "Now We Are Free" by Lisa Kelly) 

A single lightbulb from within a dirty ceramic shade swung ominously from the ceiling, slowly unraveling itself. The events of the Genetic Opera played out through the radio, but Eimear Hammond did not hear any of it. "God, God, I'm being ripped apart!" she screamed, gripping the rails of the hospital bed as yet another wave of excruciating pain fell upon her. 

Her sister Euriel peered up from between her legs, holding a towel. "Alright, Eimear, it's time to push." 

Graverobber, who had been standing in the corner behind Eimear, now came closer to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You can do it! If you need anything for the pain-" 

"Don't you dare come near me with any Zydrate, Graves!" Eimear managed to snap at him before screaming again and again. 

With Graverobber and Euriel encouraging her, Eimear continued to push until her baby came out. "Graves, come here, I need you to cut the cord," Euriel motioned the dealer over to her. 

Eimear raised her head to look at them just in time to see their expressions of shock and concern; first at the baby, then at each other, then back to the baby. "What is it?" she asked. "What's wrong?" 

Her sister and friend hurriedly shook their heads and finished their work on the umbilical cord. "Nothing," Graverobber said, not entirely convincingly. "It's a boy!" 

Eimear reached out to receive her son from Euriel and saw at once what had startled them so badly. Her son was white as salt, with a pinched face, and his ears were shaped and slanted like those of a mouse. She only noticed all of these things for a moment, however, before something far more important came to her attention. 

"He's not breathing," she said, and began to weep in terror. She couldn't stop herself from screaming her next sentence; "Why isn't he breathing?!" 

Euriel instantly turned the baby over on his stomach and began to rub his back in quick motions while Eimear frantically muttered encouragements and prayers. After several agonizing moments, the three adults heard a small cough, and Euriel turned the baby face-up again. Though he was still very pale, there was more color in his face, and at last he was beginning to cry, prompting Euriel, Eimear, and Graverobber to breathe sighs of relief. 

Eimear cradled her son, smiling down at him and shedding tears of joy as Graverobber mopped the sweat from her bare face and Euriel tended to the rest of her. She stroked his little mouse-like ears and pressed a kiss to his forehead, whispering _my son; Fortunato, my son_ over and over. 

Nobody in the room noticed when the light above them came completely undone until it was too late.


	2. Dolcezza, Tesoro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Pavi Largo discovers Eimear and Euriel shoveling snow in a graveyard.

Chapter Two: _Dolcezza, Tesoro_

(For this chapter, listen to "The Maid Who Sold Her Barley" by Deanta) 

~*~ eleven years later ~*~ 

Snow had fallen in the night and now covered the city in a thick white blanket, even as it continued to fall. Cameras flashed in the faces of the two Largo brothers, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Amber Sweet. Rumors of what happened to Amber had circulated through the city within hours, and now everyone with the ability to come see for themselves had flocked to the steps of the GeneCo. building. Knowing that Amber was not going to appear for quite a while, Luigi Largo stepped forward and spoke into the nearest microphone. 

"The rumors are true," Luigi said, glaring across the sea of people. "My sister Amber Sweet has been attacked by a rogue RepoMan, and her vocal cords have been cut out." Amid all the horrified gasps and mixed yelling, Luigi continued. "She is currently getting the best medical care available and she will survive, but she will never speak again. Ash her career as GeneCo.'s spokeswoman and soprano has now ended, my sister also wishes to revert back to her family name, Carmela Ambra Largo. My brother and I will continue to keep you updated on her condition and how this will affect GeneCo. from here on out." 

Luigi paused to look at his brother, who was wearing yet another new face. Pavi, always a diva, was busy posing in front of the myriad of cameras and dancing in the falling snow, and may well have not been listening at all. The eldest Largo rolled his eyes at his brother and then returned to the microphone. "On a slightly more personal note, I'd like to add;" he growled as he whipped out one of his many knives. "If and when I find who did this, I'll be sure to carry out my own repossession on quite a bit of his person." Luigi grimaced, and there was no mistaking the glint in his wide eyes. 

Elsewhere, in the slums of the city (commonly referred to merely as "The Downs"), Eimear Hammond heard this press release from the little antique television sitting on the vanity in the family room. She looked up from putting the finishing touches on a new porcelain mask in time to catch Luigi's parting words. The artist shook her head and huffed. 

"Graves, tell me you're not the one responsible for the attack on Amber Sweet?" Eimear asked her Zydrate-dealing friend who sat on the sofa with his feet propped up on the table. "And for God's sake, put your feet down!" 

Graverobber obliged, looking stricken. "You wound me, Eimear," he exaggerated. "Why would I harm my best customer? That's not a good way to promote my business." 

"He doesn't have the surgical training, either," Euriel pointed out from the mirror by the front door, where she was fixing her lab coat and her long pink hair. "Nor do any of the Shadow Doctors. It must have been a RepoMan; nobody else could do the job and leave Amber - Carmela, I mean - intact." 

The door to Fortunato's bedroom opened and the boy emerged, asking "Mama, should I wear a hat today? It looks like it snowed a lot last night." 

Eimear peered out the window as her son skipped to her side. "I think a hat would be wise," she agreed, running her hands over her son's head and kissing it. "My boy, my Fortunato... how are you already so grown up?" 

Fortunato smiled and hugged his mother. After a moment his smile faded and he pulled her to the couch where his Uncle Graves sat. "Mama... I know you don't want to talk about this..." 

Eimear sighed and began tying up her blood-red hair to calm herself. "I've told you before, Fortunato; we can't afford any surgery. I wish we could, I know how much you want it, but it's too expensive for people like us." 

The boy touched his ears momentarily before shaking his head. "You taught me not to be ashamed of myself unless I've done something shameful," he said, touching his mother's elbow lovingly. "You taught me well. I was wondering about you." He reached up and put his small hand on his mother's more severely disfigured cheek. "You always wear a mask when you leave The Downs, sometimes even just when you leave the house. What if you could get a new face instead of hiding one from the world?" 

Euriel came and sat on the arm of the couch beside her family, watching the conversation and feeling her heart break. Graverobber pointed at Fortunato and mouthed _smart kid_ to Eimear, who put her own hand on top of her son's and looked at him sadly. "I raised you to be better than me, Fortunato. I hide because try as I might, I'm still ashamed of my face. But when I say it's too expensive, I mean it. Especially now, with the attack on Amber Sweet - Carmela Largo. It's riskier and riskier these days. Even if I hide my face behind a mask, I prefer the safety of it to a face with a barcode on the underside." 

An old German cuckoo clock struck eight on the wall, and the sisters started. "We had better get going," Euriel tapped her sister's shoulder. "We need to shovel the snow in the uptown graveyards before we start today's work. Weren't you commissioned recently?" 

Eimear nodded. "Believe it or not, I've actually been commissioned by the Largo family," she shook her head and chuckled. "They want me to paint murals in all the rooms in the GeneCo. building, even the warehouses. I expect they're trying to make it their own now that Rotti's gone." She fastened one of her many intricately-painted masks to her face and continued, almost mournfully; "I hope they run GeneCo. better than he did. I hope they can _be_ better than he was." 

As the sisters were nearly out the door, donning their coats and scarves, Eimear turned to Graverobber. "Will you please keep my son out of trouble? Just until his aunt is in her office." 

The dealer smiled and hugged his adoptive nephew. "Fortunato and I will have a grand, rebellious time, won't we, kid?" 

Eimear huffed and yanked her mask off. "Please don't take him to any of your business meetings, for God's sake? He's only eleven!" When Graverobber raised both hands in mock protest, she shook her head and uttered an exasperated "Thank you, Graves," before kissing her friend's cheek and kneeling down to kiss her son's head again. "We're all going to prepare for the panto tonight at supper again; don't forget!" 

The boy shook his head and smiled. "I love you," he told his mother and aunt as they walked out the door and into the snow. 

"We love you too." 

\--- 

The trolley ride uptown from The Downs was long and cramped but not otherwise unpleasant, and despite the cold the two sisters were in relatively good spirits when they arrived at the more posh graveyard. Mere miles away, Luigi argued with Pavi for his irresponsibility. 

"Dad is gone, Pavi, and now especially with what happened to Amber - Carmela, we have to grow up!" he yelled at his brother, who was busy applying red lipstick to the face he was wearing that day. "Why can't you understand that?" 

"Oh yes, you're a-very grown up, _fratello_ ," Pavi retorted, smacking his fake lips. "I just saw you stab another GENtern this-a morning before the press release." 

Luigi rolled his eyes and balled his fists. "I have a short temper and I'm trying to fix it!" he snapped. "If you knew how many people I've considered stabbing this morning besides that one GENtern-" 

"Let me a-know how that goes for you," Pavi flipped his hair and strutted past his brother. "I have-a places to be." 

"Where?" Luigi called, but Pavi didn't answer. 

Pavi's stroll through the city, secretly on the hunt for a new face, brought him along the same path that would eventually lead him to the same graveyard where his father was buried, alongside Nathan Wallace and countless others. 

Eimear and Euriel shoveled the snow from the walkways in the cemetery, singing as they worked. They smiled at each other through their toil, glad to be singing folk songs from their childhood in harmony: 

_It's cold and raw; the north winds blow  
Black in the morning early   
When all the hills were covered with snow   
And it was winter fairly   
As I was riding o'er the moor   
I met a farmer's daughter   
Her cherry cheeks and slow-back hair   
They caused my heart to falter..._

"Should we sing this song in the panto?" Euriel interrupted to ask. Her sister shook her head. 

"I don't think so. I've got some other ideas for what to sing then." 

_I bowed my bonnet very low  
To let her know my meaning   
She answered with a courteous smile   
Her looks they were engaging   
"Where are you bound, my pretty maid?   
It's now in the morning early,"   
The answer that she made to me;   
"Kind sir, to sell me barley."_

The sisters hummed the next part of the song, shoveling in perfect synchronization, when they heard a gasp followed by a heavy Italian accent. 

" _Dolcezza_! _Tesoro_!" Pavi Largo emerged from behind one of the pillars of the graveyard gate, where he had been listening. "I had been admiring you for-a your face," he reached out to touch Euriel's cheek, but she ducked away. "But I've stumbled upon pure, angelic-a vocal brilliance!" 

He reached out and snatched both of the sisters' hands quicker than they could blink, repeating " _Dolcezza, tesoro_! Sweetness and treasure," he kissed each hand in turn. "Please, won't you-a come sing for GeneCo.?" 

Eimear ripped her hand away in fear. "I cannot speak for my sister," she said, careful to keep her voice from trembling. "But I will not be indebted to GeneCo., for _anything_." 

"I agree with my sister," Euriel asserted, her voice much more level. "Besides which, we have enough to do with our current jobs. I doubt we would be able to add another to our list." 

"I can't-a take no for an answer, my glories," Pavi insisted. "Name your price!" 

But the sisters shook their heads. "We can't do what you ask, Mr. Largo," Eimear said, more firmly this time. "If you'll excuse us, we have work to finish here and then our other jobs to get to." 

Pavi regarded Eimear carefully. "Pray tell me, _tesoro_ ," he reached for her face. "What lies-a beneath that mask?" 

Eimear put both of her hands to her face, protecting her mask from removal. Her sister stepped in front of her as well. "Nobody will ever know that." 

"An injury? A blemish?" Pavi guessed. "Surely you a-know GeneCo. could fix-a whatever it is?" 

"Forget it," Euriel barked, finally getting Pavi to back off. He sauntered out of the graveyard, waving over his shoulder. 

"The Pavi always gets-a what he wants!" he called out to them as he left, and though his voice was sing-song, there was a thinly-veiled threat in his words.


End file.
